The Wings of Freedom
by JustLittle0ldMe
Summary: From strangers to friends, both boys value their friendship above almost anything else. However both crave something more from the other; will they find the courage to confess their feelings or watch the opportunity pass them by.


"Give it back Jean!" Marco shouted; his face a deep shade of red from running after the boy directly in front of him.

Jean laughed and sped up, he loved to tease Marco this way, he loved every emotion that crossed the boy's face; Jean adored Marco's reactions to every situation he placed upon him, and that was what drove him onward.

"Pfft! As if I'd give in that easily! You'll have to try harder than that!" he called over his shoulder.

Marco's jacket ruffled in Jeans hand as he ran, moving in the breeze that the blonde created.

Ever since the freckled boy had tended to Jeans wounds after a particularly brutal fight with Eren the two had become close; as close as two individuals could be in times of war and violence and death. Days like these were what both boys lived for; Jean could drop his 'hard-man' façade and become the carefree boy he never had the chance to live as. Marco could forget about the Titans, about his training, about death and just focus on Jean and his teasing. In these moments nothing else mattered to the two boys, they could escape their harsh realities.

Marco panted and started to slow down; he could never fully catch up to Jean, always only a few paces behind him. He wasn't really annoyed at Jean, he loved their games as much as the blonde boy, he could never stay angry at him, no matter what Jean did. However it had been a long day their commander had told all the newest members to train until they dropped, and trained they had. Marco's muscles still ached and screamed for rest; he couldn't understand how Jean could keep running at the pace he was maintaining.

Suddenly Marco's foot slid on the damp earth, sending him tumbling to the ground in a crumpled heap. He groaned and tried, unsuccessfully, to pick himself back up again; all he wanted right now was the relief that only resting would bring to his broken body.

With all his attention focused on trying to stand, Marco didn't notice the blonde boy in front of him until his shoes where directly opposite his line of vision. A pale hand reached out towards him as Marco glanced up into worried hazel eyes.

"You okay? That looked like a pretty harsh fall. You didn't hurt anything too badly did you?" Jean asked quickly, avoiding eye contact as Marco grabbed the offered hand to haul himself up. No matter how tough Jean acted or how much he teased him, Jean would never wish the freckled boy to be harmed or hurt in anyway. Although he would never admit it, he cared about Marco deeply, even though such feelings where completely impractical and a liability in the field, he could not stop such emotions from surfacing; especially when Marco was breathing heavily in front of him, his face red from running, and his whole form the epitome of vulnerability and submission.

"Yeah, sorry Jean I didn't mean to trip, guess I'm just tired from today's exercises." Marco answered; a sheepish look took over his face as he raised his free hand to rub the back of this neck.

"Hmph, be more careful next time." Jean grunted, secretly relieved the boy hadn't taken any serious damage from the fall.

Warmth started to spread across Marco's face as he realized the blonde boy still hadn't released his right hand; surprisingly soft fingers still wrapped around his own and for one moment, just one fleeting second he allowed the butterflies in his stomach, he allowed himself to believe he had a chance with Jean, he allowed himself to hope. Maybe it was possible for Jean to reciprocate his feelings.

No. That was an impossible and unrealistic thought. He couldn't build his hopes up, for when Jean rejected him, the fall would only be that much harder, that much more painful and Marco could not bear for that to happen.

Unknown to Marco Jean was having his own internal struggle, trying to quell the utter adoration he felt toward the freckled boy. This was no easy task. He had known of his feelings towards Marco the second he had patched up Jean's wounds after breaking up the fight between him and Jaeger. Surprisingly, his feelings had never gone away, only increased tenfold as the months continued.

Jean glanced down at the hand enclosed in his own; it felt so warm, so comforting, so soft, so damn _right_ in his palm. The blond boy focused his gaze on Marco's face; taking note of the slowly forming blush across his speckled cheeks and the smile that, close up, looked slightly forced. Should he take the risk? But what if Marco didn't return his feelings? What if Jean was rejected? How would their friendship survive after such a confession? Being shaken from his thoughts he realized Marco was speaking.

"…Sorry Jean, but thanks for the help man..." he said quietly, his puppy dog eyes trailing to the left, unable to make eye contact with Jean for fear the blonde-haired boy would see straight through him and put his feelings on full display.

"Anytime, Marco…anytime" Jean murmured, his hand still holding Marco's, unable to make a decision on what the best course of action would be in this situation; was this Jean's perfect moment? The one he'd been waiting for, so he could finally tell Marco of the feelings he'd been hiding? If need be, he was willing to beg for the boy's forgiveness just so their friendship would not be jeopardised. If he could not have Marco romantically, and there was a large possibility of said boy rejecting him, he would need his friendship more than anything.

Jean may not have been the bravest of soldiers or even the courageous of men, however, he knew if he did not take this chance he would regret it for the rest of his life, no matter how long or short that may be. He pulled Marco forward into a crushing yet meaningful embrace.

Marco gasped quietly as he was propelled forward into Jean's arms; this only proceeded to make the boys blush worse than it had been, and wipe the fake smile from his face.

"Marco, there's something I have to tell you and…its…well…hard, I guess, to talk about…you just…I mean I…" realising he was stumbling over his words Jean took a breath and came to the conclusion that his normal, blunt approach was probably his best bet at the moment.

"I like you Marco, I like you a lot. I have done for a while and I completely understand if you don't like me in the same way back but I just had to tell you and…" Jean paused in his speech as he felt liquid through his jacket, on the shoulder Marco's head was resting on. Jean was baffled and immediately started apologizing.

"W-what…why are you crying man? ...I'm sorry I didn't mean for yo-"Marco cut him off mid-sentence.

"Jean, I like you too." Marco breathed, his voice muffled by Jeans shoulder and the sobs that left his mouth and yet, to Jean, they were the clearest words he'd ever heard.

"I'm so happy" Marco sobbed. "I never thought I'd even have a chance with you. You're so strong and beautiful Jean and I'm just…" he trailed off, his tears slowly stopping as he raised glistening eyes to Jeans own.

Relief and joy and elation travelled through Jeans body simultaneously; Marco, his best friend, his whole world, his rock, liked him back. His hazel eyes took in the freckled boys appearance; his face was tear stained, his eyes sparkling with such powerful emotion and remnants of his blush was still present. A devilish smirk started to form on Jeans lips as he finally registered Marco's words.

"Complements will get you everywhere." he winked until a serious expression graced Jeans features and he gently ran a hand through Marco's soft dark hair.

"You're perfect Marco, if anyone had no chance it would have been me." Jean remarked a soft loving smile present on his face, and as Marco was about to protest, he pulled the freckled boy into a bruising kiss.

This is what both had been waiting for, what both had been hoping for since the day they met. Nothing else could compare to the mutual feelings that flowed through them as their lips connected, their hands entwined and their chests pressed evenly together. None paid any notice to Marco's jacket, lying crumpled on the floor.


End file.
